


A Very Jurassic Christmas

by TinyTARDIS



Category: Jurassic World - Fandom
Genre: And Presents!, And cuddling!, Bungalow Christmas, Christmas, Fluff, I can only write fics like these in first person, It's basically a late Christmas fic, There's pancakes!, sorry - Freeform, written in first person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2015-12-28
Packaged: 2018-05-09 22:37:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5558198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TinyTARDIS/pseuds/TinyTARDIS
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Owen's favorite holiday!  Christmas.  Basically, he wakes the reader up, and he's so damn adorably excited that they can't help but comply.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Very Jurassic Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> I just thought I'd do something a little different, so here it is! I know it's past Christmas, but screw you because Christmas lasts through January for me.

“Merry Christmas...” A husky voice whispered into my ear. 

I whined and tried to go back to sleep. 

“Oh, no. I'm not having any of that.” The voice came again, and I felt myself being lifted up against something. My eyes fluttered open tiredly just as the world began to spin. “IT'S CHRIIIIIIISTMAAAAAAAAAAS!” Owen bellowed. It was Owen. I realized he was spinning me around, and I buried my face in his chest. 

“Okay, okay! I'm up! Stop spinning!”

He obliged, and I chuckled into his chest. “Damn you for being so festive.”

“You know it's adorable,” he retorted smugly. He began walking, and I allowed him to carry me back to the bed where he sat me down carefully. I stilled my dizzied head and reached for his discarded Henley, slipping it on without thinking twice. He was used to me wearing that shirt by now.

I looked up just as he tossed me my favorite pajama pants, and I grasped them right before they hit me in the face. I put them on under his watchful gaze, looking up when I was finished. “So... pancakes?”

He grinned. “I'll help,” he offered.

Fifteen minutes later, we were side-by-side in the kitchen, making a huge mess out of pans and bowls as we attempted to make pancakes. Owen kept distracting me while I was flipping them. He turned on the stereo to some Christmas station and sidled up behind me. He hooked both arms tightly around my waist and swayed while he crooned Mariah Carey's 'All I Want For Christmas is You' vocals into my ear.

I giggled but refused to push him away. These are the moments I would die for. Why ruin any memories by cutting them short? Instead, I leaned back against him and pretended to be swooned by his terribly off-key singing. Owen chuckled once I gave in, pressing a sweet kiss to my cheek before launching back into the next verse. 

We finally situated ourselves on the outside table that rested in the corner of the bungalow's porch. It had a great view of the lake, and it was such a beautiful day. We laughed while we ate, trading stories of failed family holiday gatherings or terrible secret Santa gifts. At one point I began giggling, and Owen frowned. “What?”

“You have syrup all over your mouth,” I giggled again.

“That's just to make my kisses sweeter.”

I began to groan at the cheesiness of that statement, but he suddenly ducked down and gave me a sticky, sloppy kiss on the cheek. I shrieked in protest and swatted at him, but he still managed to get my other cheek before sliding away from me. I glared. “Jerk.”

He was laughing too hard to care. I used the condensation from my frappachino glass to wipe away the worst of the syrup, but a smile hinted at the corners of my mouth. 

“Have I told you about the time our tree caught fire?” He asked me, and upon my answer, he launched into a story of Christmas past.

Owen took the plates once we were done, and he led me down into the den to snuggle up with me on the couch. “I have something for you,” he told me a little sheepishly. He reached behind the arm of the couch. “Two things, actually.”

“Owen!” I whined. “I thought we agreed on no presents this year...”

“Relax!” He told me with a grin, bringing up two parcels. “One's from your mother anyways.” He handed me the one with “Mom” written on it.

“Fine,” I gave a small smile and proceded to tear the paper off. Hidden inside was a really nice but compact camera. And a note. Owen examined the camera box while I read it aloud.

“I'm getting you this because I expect you to be making memories in your new life. This is to make sure you never forget them. I'll expect pictures of you and Owen every once in a while! I don't care if you're just eating cereal. I. Expect. Pictures.” I paused and scrutinized the letter. “I think she tried to draw a glaring emoji right here.” I shook my head and continued. “One day you'll thank me for this. Don't let a day go by forgotten. That's easy to do when you have forever. Call me sometime, why don't you? Love, Mom.” I folded the letter and placed it beside me.

“Cheesy, but appreciated,” I smiled. 

“I think it'd be nice to have some pictures of us together around here,” Owen admitted. “We've been together for a really long time. I mean, we're married, but we need to make this place more like home for the both of us.”

Where had that man been hiding all these months? I smiled slowly. “So... I'm thinking the one of us eating cereal can go over the couch...”

Owen rolled his eyes and flicked at my arm. “Okay, okay. Now open mine.” He handed me a larger, thinner package wrapped rather badly in wrapping paper so bright it made my eyes hurt. I smiled and removed the wrapping paper quickly to expose a frame. The sneaky bastard. Inside the frame was a picture I recognized vaguely from one of the sample brochures the suits up in HQ were proposing for next year's tourists. It had been under the section describing the “various techniques implemented by our skilled trainers.” It depicted me and Owen atop the raptor paddock's catwalk, both in the same position as we co-led the raptors. Our faces were turned just a bit towards one another so that we could keep an eye on our motions, making sure they were correct. 

It had never been done before. That is, having two trainers to lead the raptors. The girls had taken a liking to me, however, and it was almost instinct to do as Owen did. I was like an accepted co-Alpha, regardless of the nepotism comments some of the paddock's employees made. 

“And here I thought you were gonna do something stupid. Like giving me a motorcycle.” I grinned up at Owen.

He smirked. “And miss having you pressed up against me when we go riding? Never.”

I chuckled at that and leaned over to kiss his scruffy cheek. “Thank you. I love it.”

He shrugged, but a smug grin was plastered on his face. “You're welcome.”

“I actually got you something, too...” I mumbled, looking away. 

“What? You broke the rule about no gifts?!” Owen teased me, poking my side. “I'm so disappointed in you.”

I swatted at his hand. “Oh, piss off. Mine isn't as good anyway.”

“What is it?” He asked, eyes bright in childish excitement. He resembled a puppy after hearing the word “treat.”

I chuckled and slipped something out from between the couch cushions, handing it to him with an almost-shy look. “Here.”

He grinned and practically shredded the wrapping paper. His grin widened when he saw his gift, and his eyes crinkled at the edges. “You remembered!”

I chuckled and met his gaze. “You kept complaing that the hilt was coming off, so I thought maybe you'd like a new one. I know it isn't that fancy, but-”

“-Hey.” Owen stopped me with a quickly-placed finger. “I love it. I'm just surprised you remembered. I was complaining about that almost a year ago.”

“You could see the thing coming apart in it's holster, Owen,” I smiled.

His green eyes narrowed, and he tilted his head just a bit. “I think you were just staring at my ass.”

“Hm.” I gave a little wink. “It's possible.” You could bounce a nickel off that thing...

Owen just chuckled and crumpled up all the discarded wrapping paper. “We've still got a while before we head over to Barry's place, so why don't we just curl up and watch some Christmas movies for a bit?” He gave his best puppy-dog face, and I nodded quickly. As if I would need any persuasion for that!

“But first...” He held up the camera box. “I'm pretty sure we owe your mom something.”

Since protesting would get me nowhere, I nodded and waited while he used his new knife to untape the box. It took a few minutes of examining and minor bickering, but we finally got the camera on and functioning. Setting his large finger on the shutter button, he spun the camera around and hooked an arm around me. I scooted in closer and rested my head against his available shoulder, putting on my best “I'm totally in the Christmas spirit and love having my picture taking gee thanks mom you're the best look at us we're so in love oh my god” smile. I supposed Owen was doing the same.

He brought the screen to eye level and smiled contently. “There. Wasn't so bad, was it?” He showed me the picture, and I had to admit. It wasn't that bad. My face didn't look too shabby, even if it was early in the morning, and Owen's stupidly gorgeous face made up for anything less than acceptable. 

I shut the camera off and placed it on the endtable while Owen gently set the framed picture of us on the coffee table. “That,” he said as he snuggled up close to me, “can go above the couch.”

I smiled and nuzzled into his chest. “They both can.”

**Author's Note:**

> Check me out on Tumblr if you liked my story and/or Chris Pratt! dahlia-of-the-endless.tumblr.com


End file.
